Man From Mundania (59 page)

"That's Humfrey's writing!"

"The Good Magician's?"

"Who else? I'd know his scrawl anywhere! But of course

I can't read it; he enchants messages so that only those

whose business it is can read them."

"Then that's why the goblins couldn't read it!" Ivy said.

"They knew what it was, but it was no good to them. But

you said it's an address?"

"Probably telling where to find him if they need him,"

the golem said. "Those gremlins must have done him some

service, so they had an Answer on tap. Too bad they never

got to use it.''

Ivy's eyes lighted. "An Answer!" she exclaimed.

"Don't get excited, Princess. You don't have an Answer

coming to you, and if you did, Humfrey's gone, so you

couldn't get it anyway."

"But the address!" she persisted. "The magic address!

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That would change when he moved and always be cur-

rent!"

"Of course it would," the golem agreed. "But the folk

he gave it to are gone, and nobody else can read it, so

what's the point?"

' 7 could read it!" Ivy said. "If I had the original paper.

I could enhance its legibility and orientation, and find out

where the Good Magician is now!"

The others stared at her, realizing that it was true. "And

if you found him, you could ask him how to foil Pewter's

plot," Rapunzel said. "Oh, Ivy, what a coincidence that

you should learn of that paper just now!"

"Coincidence?" Ivy asked musingly. "No, I think it's

Murphy's curse! This is just the kind of fluke that happens

when that curse is operating."

Then Grey began to hope.

This time they appeared to be a party of three: a young

peasant man, a pretty peasant girl, and a homely young

centaur with a donkeylike hide. They were not these

things, exactly, but they played their parts carefully, for

their mission was important and not without risk. Had the

need to find Humfrey and solve Grey's problem not been

so urgent. King Dor and Queen Irene would never have

permitted this excursion. But the parents had had to agree

that this was their best chance.

Actually, Queen Irene had quietly approached Grey dur-

ing one of the few times when Ivy was otherwise occu-

pied, and hinted that there might be another way to deal

with Com-Pewter. A sphinx might take a stroll and acci-

dentally step on the evil machine's cave, squashing it and

all inside it flat. Then there would be nothing for Grey to

serve. But Grey had demurred; that would be an unethical

solution, by his definition. He could not conspire so di-

rectly against Com-Pewter, who had after all made a deal

with Grey's parents and fulfilled his part of it. It was Grey's

own responsibility to solve his problem, whatever the out-

come.

"I thought you might feel that way," Irene said ap-

provingly. "There is an ethical dimension to power. We

274 Man from Mundania

shall remain clear and allow you to deal with your problem

yourself."

Grey had thanked her, though his prospect of success

seemed bleak. The more he learned of Ivy's folks, the

better he liked them.

They walked north from the invisible bridge over the

Gap Chasm. This time instead of taking the enchanted

path north they veered to the east, following a lesser trail

that wasn't magically protected but that led to a centaur

range. In fact Chester and Cherie Centaur had once lived

there, before moving to Castle Roogna to tutor the young

Prince Dor and Princess Irene. A few centaurs still lived

there, though it was a diminishing community that was

desperately in need of nubile fillies. In a past generation

it had been short of centaur colts, which had led in part

to the defection of Chem Centaur to another type of as-

sociation. The winged centaur Chex was the result. The

centaurs of this region were a good deal more liberal than

those of Centaur Isle far to the south, but not that liberal,

and neither Chex nor her dam were welcome there now.

So the region continued to decline, victim as much of its

conservatism as of its bad fortune. Monsters were en-

croaching, becoming increasingly bold despite the profi-

ciency of centaur archers.

Peasant gid Ivy rode the centaur, while peasant boy

Grey walked beside. It was evident that they were going

to visit the centaur's home range, perhaps to discuss with

the centaurs there some type of commission or employ-

ment. Few peasants could afford centaur tutors, but on

occasion some child with excellent magic turned up, and

then the centaurs could be prevailed on for instruction in

the rudiments.

There were goblins not far from this region, but they

had not yet been so bold as to attack the centaur com-

munity. Even goblins were able to appreciate the effec-

tiveness of aroused centaurs; losses would be prohibitive.

But the goblins did lurk, watching their opportunity. There

were stories ...

"Oh, gentle peasants!" a sweet voice called.

They looked. A slender young woman was running to-

Man from Mundania

275

ward them, her comsilk hair flowing behind. She was so

slight as to be almost transparent, but nicely contoured.

"What is it, sylph?" Ivy inquired.

So this was a sylph! Grey had not encountered one be-

fore. But of course there were a great many of the crea-

tures of Xanth he had not yet met—and might never meet,

if their quest for the Good Magician's Answer proved un-

successful.

"Oh, kind peasants and brave centaur, surely you have

come to fulfill the prophecy!" the sylph said.

"Prophecy?" Ivy asked.

"My friend, the lovely centaur damsel, is captive of an

ogre who means to fatten her horribly and then crunch her

bones!" the sylph explained. "According to the prophecy,

only a bold gray centaur with a young human couple as

companions can hope to rescue her from a fate exactly as

bad as death! Surely you are the ones it refers to, for you

answer the description perfectly!"

"That is an interesting prophecy," Ivy remarked. "But

an ogre is a fearsome creature! What could poor peasants

do against such a monster?"

"Oh, wonderful folk, I know not!" the sylph cried,

distraught. "But there must be some way, for the proph-

ecy says so. Will you not at least come and see?"

"And get our own bones crunched by the ogre?" Ivy

asked. "I think we should take another path!"

"Now let us not be hasty," the gray centaur protested.

He turned to the sylph. "You say this filly is fair?"

"Oh, she is lovely, sir! She was a bit thin, but the ogre

has been making her eat all she can hold, and now she is

quite buxom, and soon she will be fat, and he will crunch

her bones! I beg you, come and see her, and perhaps you

can free her. She would be most grateful!"

"But the ogre!" Ivy protested. "We don't dare ap-

proach!"

"He forages by day, leaving her chained. I am too frail

to break the chain, indeed all normal folk are, but the

prophecy says you will find the way! Please, please, come

and see, while the ogre is away!"

"I think we should at least look," the gray centaur said

276 Man from Mundania

reasonably. One might almost have thought he had some

ulterior interest in the matter.

Ivy sighed. "Well, the centaurs are in need of young

fillies. But we must be ready to flee at the first sign of the

ogre!"

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" the sylph ex-

claimed. "I am ever so relieved! Right this way!" She

skipped along the path ahead, her hair flouncing nicely.

They followed. Grey had kept his mouth strictly shut,

not interfering. They had just played out a little charade.

They had surveyed this matter with the Tapestry, and dis-

covered that the goblins had a new ploy: they used their

captives to beguile travelers into goblin ambushes and then

pounced on the hapless travelers and bore them off to the

pot. The sylph was a captive who had been promised her

freedom if she lured three travelers in for capture. Of

course the goblins would renege on that pledge, and surely

the sylph suspected it. But it was at least a hope, while

the alternative was certain: if she did not cooperate she

would be dumped in the pot immediately.

It occurred to Grey that it was about time someone did

something about those goblins. They were not nice neigh-

bors.

The sylph led them deeper into the jungle. This was no

longer the regular trail, for there were no centaur hoof-

prints on it; it was one the goblins had scuffed out for this

purpose. Goblins were good a scuffing trails, especially

for a nefarious purpose. They were making sure the prey

had no chance to escape the ambush.

Grey permitted himself a grim little smile. The goblins

had a surprise coming.

They reached a clearing. There was nothing in it except

a mound of garbage evidently left by the goblins.

The sylph turned. Tears streaked down her face. "Oh,

I am so sorry, good folk!" she said. "They made me do

it!"

"Do what?" Ivy asked with simulated confusion.

"They have my child captive, my darling Sylvanie, and

she is first into the pot if I do not do all they demand, and

me too if I fail," the sylph continued. "I know it's wrong,

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and I hate myself for doing it, but my man defied them

and they boiled him, and oh, I have no pride left, only I